


An Issue of Supply

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 19:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: “One of my soldiers came to see me today.  About the Daedalus resupply.  Or, what was missing off the Daedalus resupply.”John has an awkward conversation with Carson and learns something new.





	An Issue of Supply

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amycooper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amycooper/gifts).



> For amycooper. Sorry for writing so much hurt/Comfort lately. Here, have my attempt at something funny!

“Ah, Colonel Sheppard,” Carson greeted John with a smile. “It’s not often I see you down here, not when you’re not bleeding or injured anyway. What can I do you for?”

John really didn’t want to be in the infirmary and he definitely didn’t want to be having this conversation but he couldn’t see any way out of it.

Carson must have read some of his hesitance on his face. “Tell you what,” he said, still sounding cheery but a bit more steely eyed, “why don’t you come into my office. The Daedalus just resupplied us with the decent coffee and I could go a cup.”

John grimaced as he followed Carson into his office. At least Carson had offered him a decent segue way into what he wanted to discuss. Daedalus resupply days were supposed to be happy days, he should be reading the latest back issues of his golfing magazines with his allocation of beer cooling in his newly requisitioned mini fridge but instead he had to deal with this.

“What’s on your mind, son?” Carson asked as soon as the door slid closed behind them, as if he wasn’t two years younger than John. “You take it black?” he asked, busying himself with the fixings for coffee.

“Cream and two sugars,” John corrected, shrugging at Carson’s raised eyebrow. It was true that he normally drank it black but he preferred it with cream and two sugars. The street cred of drinking it black usually won out but this conversation would be awkward enough; he wanted the comfort of good, sweet coffee to push him through it, appearance be damned.

In far too short a time, Carson passed him his coffee and gestured that he should sit.

“Before you start, John, I want to remind you that anything you say to me is covered by doctor-patient confidentiality. And there’s nothing you could have that I won’t have seen before.”

_Oh, jeez_. John almost choked on his coffee.

“Whoa, Doc. I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here, I’m not here about anything” John waved his hand around, hopefully indicating the sort of embarrassing personal medical problems that Carson was suggesting, “like _that_.”

Carson sat back, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Well, what was I supposed to think with you skulking about like that? What is it you’re wanting then?”

“I can’t just come to see a friend?” John asked.

“Well you haven’t yet in the two years we’ve been here,” Carson said, his eyes twinkling to show that he didn’t mind. “I’d almost think that you don’t like the infirmary.”

John had to concede the point. He hated the infirmary; had woken up in it too many times with the clarity of pain or the fuzziness of painkillers that told him something had gone horribly wrong. Sighing, he put his coffee cup down and figured it was time he started talking.

“One of my soldiers came to see me today,” he began. “About the Daedalus resupply. Or, what was missing off the Daedalus resupply.”

Carson immediately knew what John meant, he could tell by the way Carson’s cheeks flushed pink.

“And what can I do about that?” Carson asked. “I rely on the Daedalus for the infirmary resupply too.”

John leaned back in his chair, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, well, a few of the soldiers seem to think they might have saw a supply of the item in question here a few days ago and they came to me with the suggestion that maybe that supply could be redistributed as needed. For morale reasons.”

“Morale reasons?” Carson repeated. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Come on, Carson. I know it’s not life and death but do you really want to spend the next ten weeks until the next resupply living in a city where people can’t let off some tension safely?”

Carson crossed his arms, his expression resolute. “There are ways to let off tension that don’t actually require the use of condoms, Colonel.”  

“ _I_ know that but...look, do you have any condoms here or not?”

Carson sighed heavily. “I do. But they aren’t likely to do anybody else on the expedition much good.”

John opened his mouth to interject but Carson held his hand up, stopping him.

“Condoms come in a range of different materials and sizes, Colonel. And those are some of the many things we took into consideration when stocking for the expedition. All I have are the boxes of non-latex condoms which were stocked.” Carson spread his hands like the discussion was over. Like hell it was. His soldiers had felt strongly enough about this that they’d actually tracked John down and raised the issue with him - Corporal Hughes had no doubt drawn the short straw on that - and he wasn’t going to let Carson pawn them - or him - off with a flimsy excuse like that.

“I’m sorry Doc, but that’s not gonna fly. Last I checked, there was nothing to stop people without a latex allergy from using non-latex products. So, how about you distribute the non-latex boxes and we add more of them on to the list for ten weeks time. I’m sure whoever they were ordered for will understand.” It was John’s turn to act as if the conversation was over; he stood up and held his hand out for Carson to shake. “Deal?”

Carson looked at his outstretched hand and John internally willed him to just reach out and shake it so he could get back to his golf magazines in peace. His heart sank as Carson smiled apologetically, shaking his head.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. The, ah, the expedition member in question has a rather substantial...” Carson flushed even brighter before spitting it out.  “Oh, hell, he’s hung like a horse. There’s no way that the condoms would work for anyone else on the expedition, ok? They’d just be too damn big and a too large condom is at danger of slipping off and wouldnae be much protection against anything.”

John stood with his hand still outstretched, blinking stupidly. Someone on the expedition was so well hung that they’d had to special order him his own supply of condoms?

“Who is it?” he asked, dumbly. “How do you know that nobody else....hold up, do you have our _measurements on record_?”

“The physicals are very thorough,” Carson hedged. “And I cannae tell you who it is, that would be incredibly unprofessional of me and - -“

“Oh my god, it’s Rodney.” John was suddenly looking up at Carson, his legs having given out from under him. “It is, isn’t it?”

John could remember, with suddenly stunning clarity, a conversation he’d had with Rodney back when he’d first asked him to be part of his team. Rodney had clearly wanted to say yes but he’d just as clearly needed John to convince him that he could be trusted to keep Rodney safe. Part of their back and forth on the matter had involved Rodney listing every single one of his allergies and listening to John’s plans to mitigate any exposure to them. They’d covered everything from citrus (“I’ll taste all your food off world to make sure there’s no citrus. Plus we’ll all have EpiPens.”) to bees (“I’ll make sure everyone on the team avoids sweet fragrances, bright colours and doesn’t carry sugary food. Plus we’ll all have EpiPens.”) to penicillin (“I’m pretty sure Carson already knows that and I’ll make sure that no one gives you any unknown medication offworld.”) to pollen (“Seriously, Rodney? I can’t change the weather. Just take some antihistamines and man up.”) to, yes, latex (“Have you been reading SG-1 reports?  I’m pretty sure it won’t be an issue.”)

John had spent a large portion of the past two years fantasising about Rodney and more than a few of those fantasies had focused on Rodney’s cock. In two years, he’d never seen Rodney naked. That probably wasn’t an unusual thing for most platonically linked people to say but John had spent enough time in the military to find it strange. Shared locker rooms and close quarters were the norm but Rodney avoided the locker room showers like the plague, always showering in his own quarters, even if it delayed the post-mission briefing. John had always thought that the habit had stemmed from bad experiences in high school but maybe he had just been hiding his monster of a cock.

Jesus, how big was it? It must be pretty big if Carson was convinced that nobody else could — John’s mind kept flashing on the huge cocks he’d seen in porn, the stretch of a mouth or an ass around it and - -

“Colonel!”

Rodney’s voice jolted him out of his pornographic zone out and he felt himself flush head to toe at the awareness that he was still sat on the floor of Carson’s office. Looking around, he saw no sign of Carson and felt even more mortified when he realised that he must have been so lost in his shock-fuelled fantasies that Carson had called Rodney.

Rodney’s fingers snapped in front of John’s eyes, irritating him. He batted Rodney’s hand away, ready to snap but his words dried up when his eyes tripped over Rodney’s crotch. It looked like any other crotch area but John had an idea what was lurking there now and - -

“Hey,” another snap of the fingers accompanied Rodney’s voice, “my eyes are up here, Sheppard. I suppose I don’t need to ask what exactly Carson told you to bring on this whatever-the-hell-this-is. You scared me, you jackass. I thought you’d just found out you had cancer or something.”

“Huh?” John tore his gaze away from Rodney’s pants area to look at his eyes, which was just another part of Rodney that had a frequent starring role in John’s daydreams. They were just as blue as John knew they were, no hidden surprises there. “Who’s got cancer?”

“Millions of people,” Rodney answered, his eyes softer than they had been a moment before. “But nobody here.”

“Right.” John felt slow and stupid. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” Rodney stretched the word out, “it is. Did you hit your head on the way down. Carson, did he hit his head?” Rodney had yelled the last part in the direction of Carson’s closed door, reminding John of where he was and why Carson wasn’t here again.

“Oh my god,” he leaned over, placing his head in his hands. “I’m never going to live this down.”

“Yes, well, anything that happens in Carson’s office stays in Carson’s office.” Rodney’s hand reached out and patted John’s shoulder awkwardly. John flinched at the touch, it was too much when his mind was still stuttering over his new found knowledge about the size of Rodney’s package.

Rodney drew his hand back, a hurt look on his face.

“It’s not going to jump out of my pants and attack you, Colonel,” he said stiffly.

John swallowed hard, licking his lips at the thought of Rodney’s huge cock, preferably still attached to Rodney, taking him hard and fast right here and - -

“Oh my god, you like it.” It was Rodney’s turn to sound shocked to his core. “You - - you’re gay?” he whispered frantically. “And a size queen?”

“I’m not a size queen,” John snapped, not whispering. He was sure he heard Carson sniggering outside the door but he didn’t care about that at the moment. This still fell under doctor-patient confidnetiality, right? “I’m a - - a Rodney queen,” he finished lamely, already wishing he could take the words back. He definitely heard sniggering now.

“You - you - really?” Rodney still sounded out of it. John was glad he wasn’t the only one.

“Really,” he answered.

“Is this one of those what happens in Carson’s office stays in Carson’s office moments?” Rodney asked quietly.

John hated that. Hated the sound of hesitance and uncertainty in Rodneys voice. “I really don't want this to stay in Carsons office,” he said.

Rodney grinned. “Your room or mine?”

* * *

 

John was in a much better mood when he reported back to Corporal Hughes later.

“Well, thanks for trying Sir,” Corporal Hughes said.

“No worries,” John smiled. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

He made a note to review Corporal Hughes’ file and see if he was due any commendations. It was the least he deserved.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to get this finished yesterday so I could post it as part of the Summer porn challenge at story_works but, alas, I failed.


End file.
